


In the Palms

by shakleman



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Flashbacks, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-02 18:46:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10950525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shakleman/pseuds/shakleman
Summary: Erwin is a politician, Levi is his confidant.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fic ever, so comments and critiques are welcome!! Thanks for dropping by!

- _Three weeks ago_ -

     He had lost in a landslide. It wasn’t as though it was unexpected. He had seen himself slip precipitously in the polls day by day, until he and his brand had fallen to a mere nineteen percent of the vote. A ridiculous margin. He himself was surprised that he hadn’t crashed through the groundwork. Now, when he met eyes with his constituents he didn’t see the awe or attraction he had become accustomed to during the campaign trail. Women didn’t bat their lashes, lesser men didn’t cower with inferiority. Now he only saw pity, and further down the sliding scale, anger. He had failed his party, his country. And now all he was left with was an empty ballroom.

    The banquets were always trouble. He would be forced to stand around in gaudy mansions and smile with a champagne glass in hand while people flitted around him- “he could inspire a new generation of millennial voters,” they would say, tinkling their glasses in a toast to the facade of unity. He hated all of it. He hated being a bastion of progress in a ballroom, no, a world filled with antiquated ideals and wrinkled, sly-mouthed jingoists. Yet he would shake hands with and beam at the sycophants and the racists, longing to go back home to the only real person he knew- to be wrapped up in his wiry arms and muffle the ringing of phony laughter in the space between Levi’s thighs.

     Of course, this banquet was worse than all others. Sixteen empty tables. Eighty unfulfilled reservations. The desolation of failure was insurmountably worse than the garishness of farce. He would do anything for one last taste of bright lights and the glint of silver. He took another sip of the beer he had bought at the corner store and gazed into the vacant dark.

     Later Levi came to retrieve him. “Erwin. It’s not a great idea to sit around and stew here. You were the one that cancelled the party, if I remember correctly.”

     Levi sat down next to him and took his husband’s hand. “It could have been worse,” he whispered.

     “Could it?" started Erwin. "The democratic party trusted me. Trusted us- what we could do together. They paid millions of dollars for my ads. Maybe if they had funded Dawk instead-”

     “He _definitely_ would’ve lost,” retorted Levi. “You put up a good fight. Now let’s go home.”

     - _Present Day_ -

     “Erwin, you know where the laundry detergent is?” called Levi. Erwin was sitting on the bungalow sofa clad only in the same boxer briefs he had worn for for the past two days. He looked up from his book.

     “Maybe in the cabinet above the washing machine?”

     “I can’t reach up there!”

     Erwin sighed and padded across the suite towards Levi’s voice. Erwin and Levi had decided to spend the fledgling weeks after the election out of state, in a rented house far away from all the trouble. They had chosen the Californian desert as their alien getaway, hunkered in the pestering heart and far away from equally pestering eyes. It’s impossible to escape in the north, they decided. Everyone knew everyone else, until suddenly it seemed like the whole country was knocking angrily at their front door, demanding to know if Erwin was as much as a monster as the media said he was. At least in the desert they could finally be alone. No calls, no polemics, no speeches. The best part about it was the lack of cell reception, at least in Erwin’s mind. Out here, Levi was all his.

     In the early mornings they would go on hikes and look at the wildlife. They would get lost among the Joshua trees and climb purple mountains, pretending to be teenagers again. Levi’s laughter would ring loud and bright, and Erwin’s would be the echo. They would sleep pressed up against each other in the afternoon, dreaming through the hottest part of the desert day, and abscond into the vastness of Palm Desert at night. These days Erwin could almost forget about the election and the gruesomeness of politics. It would all be over, and the media nightmare would stay just that- a fever dream that could be wished away by the whirlwind of Levi’s steady breathing and the rise and fall of his naked chest. Of course, they were simply doing their best to defer the inevitable. Erwin would be skewered by the press and Levi would be the mournful partner. Erwin would apologize, slowly, carefully, and Levi would rub circles into the small of his back with steady fingers. He would campaign for PTSD awareness, or mental health. He would raise funds, even get a few Republicans on his side. It would be alright, decided Erwin. So long as they had each other, pressed together cheek to cheek in the wasteland, they would survive.

     “That’s not even that far up,” chuckled Erwin.

     Levi elbowed him in the ribs. “Mock me again and I’ll end you.” Levi snatched the detergent.

     “I’m already done, aren’t I? I’m basically fish food after what happened.” Erwin laughed again. “Might as well leave me out in the desert.” Levi frowned and turned away from him.

     “Don’t say that again, Erwin. We’ll be fine. You’re the smartest man I know. And talented. I mean, you roped in Levi Ackerman, after all, didn’t you?” Levi glanced at Erwin’s scant outfit. “Now take those off, they’re dirty- wait, not now!"

     Erwin stood naked in the laundry room, and Levi laughed so loud that even the desolation outside seemed a little brighter. Later in bed, their legs tangled together, Erwin would whisper the same promises he had made when they were teenagers. The world would be theirs. They would stave off corruption and heal the world, Levi through music and Erwin through politics. They would one day raise a family, adopt an orphanage. Levi would laugh at that, and say that he wouldn’t possibly do all that laundry. And then they would wake up again the next day, and walk among the prickly pines until the sun hung perpendicular to their heads, and they were whole again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I kept going with this thing. Hope you guys like it:) As usual, critiques are more than welcome. Please roast me.

     Beams of pale sunlight wafted through the bedroom and skimmed across tousled white sheets. The clock read eight o’clock, and Levi was already awake.

     “Erwin. Wake up.” Levi gently shook at Erwin's shoulders and smoothed back strands of disheveled blond hair. “The shop closes early today. We have to pick up stuff for the keurig.”

     Erwin groggily pushed at Levi's prying hands. “Ten more minutes...”

     Grudgingly, Levi relented. He told himself that he could only imagine how exhausted Erwin must be, after the loss and, of course, the nightmares. For months, Erwin would wake up shouting for the comrades he had lost in the war, or screaming for some distant conscript to ceasefire. He would startle awake twisted and clammy, and the fog of exhaustion would creep over his sky blue eyes, until misty fatigue was the only thing Levi could make out in them. There was a weariness that crept up into his broad shoulders and bowed his proud head; or maybe, thinking back, it was the guilt. _Something_ had happened during the war, something unspeakable.

     Sure, he had worried about Erwin in those days. He had wanted for Erwin to see a therapist, to work out exactly what he saw and what he felt in the two years he spent in combat, but Erwin, ever the stalwart, would refuse. “Some guys couldn’t even make it home,” Erwin would say, firmly. “I need to heal alone.”

     Erwin’s campaign manager, Zoe, had once thought the “veteran narrative” could help win votes from moderate republicans. If only she knew the cost of it.

     Levi pulled on a pair of dark jeans, rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, and planted a hasty kiss on Erwin’s forehead. “Be right back.”

     It was a fifteen minute drive to the coffee shop. Once passed through the glass doors, Levi was almost surprised to see other tourists milling about. After spending so much time with Erwin, it seemed like the world was only big enough for the two of them. It had always been like that, even when they were teenagers. Erwin had the capacity to make everything and everyone else in a room fade away, whether it be in banquet halls or high school chemistry labs. Some called it a cult of personality. Levi called it love.

     He stopped at a stand of newspapers and scanned the headlines, in hopes that the media storm had blown over and Erwin might return to his rightful place in the adoring limelight. Instead, he was met with something akin to slander:

     “S _ENATOR SMITH: SLAUGHTERER IN DISGUISE_?”

     Alongside the accusation was a photograph of the future state senator Erwin Smith in desert fatigues, beaming with a rifle in hand, as steep sand dunes burned in the distance. Levi remembered how proud he had been to show off that very picture to his friends, or rather, competitors, at music school. There was _his_ soldier, _his_ hero, carrying the weight of freedom to distant lands. Erwin had been twenty-two at the time, fresh out of an undergraduate double major in history and political science. A veritable child. And now, to the American public, he was a killer.

     Levi wanted to scream. He wanted to fight whoever wrote the article, drag the bastard through the dirt. He wanted blood.

     Yet to be fair, the papers weren’t the only thing that Levi found particularly aggravating about the whole ordeal. When it came to discussing the war, it wasn’t as though Erwin was always completely transparent. Erwin was indeed always honest- if Levi asked a question, Erwin would never fail to give an abundance of truthful, albeit incomplete, answers. It was clear that Erwin held secrets, pernicious ones, and clearer still was that Levi could simply not participate in their concealment. There were times, perhaps more often than not, that Levi wished he could dig his way into Erwin’s skull and carve out a place for himself. He wished he could crawl up inside the delicate space between Erwin’s secrets and ambition and stay there forever. He had accepted that a politician with such composure as Erwin Smith must maintain the enigma. But Levi had always hoped, deep down, that he might hold the key.

     Erwin had not always been like this. In their younger days, Erwin would let passion consume his mind and actions, both in debate halls and on Levi's couch after school. He would tell Levi everything back then; about the the pain he felt when his father died, or that he felt the pressure to get into UPenn would surely crush him to dust. They would sit cross-legged on Levi’s bedroom floor after football games and dream about the future, anxieties and hopes included. In Erwin's countenance Levi once saw fear, love, guilt. Now he saw nothing.

    “Politicians, right?” snickered a sunburned man to Levi’s right, whilst inhaling a frappuccino. Levi grimaced at the whipped cream stain on his Hawaiian shirt.

     “They’ve all got skeletons in their closet, if you look hard enough. It’s too bad though- most of us thought he was a good one.”

     “He _is_ ,” muttered Levi, his face dark.

     “Uh, yeah, ok..” the sunburned man stuttered nervously .

     Then he grimaced awkwardly in Levi's direction, called for his equally sunburned children, and stalked away.

     Levi bought every copy of the newspaper, two iced coffees, and a box of recyclable k cups. After almost aggressively shoving his credit card into the chip reader, he drove back to Erwin, his grip tight on the steering wheel. Not only had the papers hurt the only person Levi cared about- they had hurt Levi, too. Every word served as a reminder that Erwin was not fully Levi's, even though Levi was fully Erwin's. And it hurt like a bitch.

     Once back at the house, Levi was relieved to find it undisturbed, as he had left it. He was fully aware of the unspoken yet ever-present fear that reporters could descend upon the property at any given moment. There was a time when Erwin could not leave their Philadelphia apartment without being stalked and pounced upon by some lioness of a journalist.

     “Erwin?” Levi called. His voice echoed throughout the house. “Where are you? I have coffee.”

     “Right here!” Erwin yelled from the bathroom. He peeked his head outside. “Just finished showering. Let me put pants on and I’ll be right out.”

     “Okay,” called Levi. Erwin ducked back in and shut the door.

     Levi took the time to dump the newspapers unceremoniously into the trash. Then he washed the ink residue from his hands in the kitchen sink and dried the dishes Erwin had left in it the night before.            “ _Lazy bastard_ ,” Levi grumbled.

    As soon as Levi shut the dishwasher Erwin appeared behind him, already contrite.

     “Sorry about that, I was planning on doing them this morning-”

     “It’s fine,” Levi snapped. He dried his hands on a plaid towel.

     “Let’s go out.”

     “We’re already out,” chuckled Erwin. “We are literally in the middle of nowhere.”

    “Exactly. Let’s go to the city.”

     “Well, LA is about an hour away…”

     “No. Vegas. We’ll take a damn plane if we have to. Let’s just do something… spontaneous.”

      Life on the campaign trail was regimented, austere. Even the parties, no matter how much champagne was involved, were unbearably robotic.

     “Alright then,” said Erwin, grinning. “Vegas it is.”


	3. Chapter 3

     They had met in Mr. Davis’ second period economics, freshman year. Erwin sat in front of the room on his own insistence. Levi sat next to him because his last name started with an “A”. They formed an uncanny alliance that year- Levi would do the homework one week, and Erwin the next, their deal solidified with a sly handshake and a subtle nod. Later in the year, as the material got more difficult, they would visit each other's homes in an effort to understand the nuance of microeconomics, together. Or maybe they just liked each other's company, much to Erwin's stepfather’s chagrin. Whatever the reason, they had always been a team, and a good one, at that, even though Erwin made new, popular friends and dated honey-haired, green-eyed girls, and Levi didn't. 

     Even in high school, Erwin seemed to be untouchable by the rest. He appeared to mature far faster than his amoeba counterparts; Erwin Smith was calculating, ambitious, and above all, certain. He had lost everything when his father was killed, and so rebuilt himself in the structured image he desired; someone whole, sure, and loved. He had drawn his new self with the certainty of an artist, creating lists both in his head and on sheets of notebook paper- a 5.2 gpa by junior year, an Ivy League admission by graduation- and he crossed off every item with fine-lined care.

     He seemed almost too adult. He was always the designated driver, always went home on time, never reckless. When he threw the occasional party, he planned the festivities perfectly so as not to upset his habitually absent parents. He was on the junior varsity football team his freshman year, an uncommon feat, and on varsity by spring training, and when his teammates acted with questionable morality, he was sure to set them straight. He was adored by all. 

     Levi on the other hand, was not. He didn't cause any trouble, but he wasn't keen on making what he considered to be unnecessary attachments, either. He cared about music, and music school, and that was it. He would practice Bach sonatas and Paganini caprices well into the nights he and Erwin shared, and then in the mornings Erwin would kiss Levi's hardened fingertips and ensure that Curtis would be foolish not to accept him. 

     Levi was indeed adored by one person, and that was really all that mattered, even if others couldn't believe it. WhenErwin gave Levi rides home in his stepfather’s black mustang convertible, the words that seemed to be on the lips of every gaping, lipgloss-coated mouth were “ _ really, him?”  _

     But levi didn't care. He had Erwin, his violin, and his drunk, but lovable, uncle Kenny. He decided at a young age that there truly wasn't room for much else.

     There was always a sense of understanding between Erwin and Levi. Both had dreams that stretched far beyond high school. They knew how parochial their existence was in their small Pennsylvania town, and looked ahead together. 

     There was a sense of equity, as well- Levi would grudgingly attend Erwin's most important football games, and Erwin would attend Levi's most important performances with the Philadelphia Youth Orchestra. Levi, seated in the bleachers behind the marching band, only looked for Erwin's blue and white jersey, and Erwin, seated in the back pews of local churches, only looked for Levi's focused expression behind stands of sheet music. They were inseparable, even in the beginning, and to the end.

     One evening, in the height of their junior year, prostrated on Levi's bedroom floor, Erwin discovered why. 

     “Do you ever miss your parents?” Erwin asked, deep in thought. 

     “Huh?” responded Levi, half asleep. 

     Erwin clambered in the dark onto Levi's bed and shook him awake. “Your mom. Do you miss her?”

     Levi sat up laboriously and rubbed at his eyes. Ms. Ackerman, a lovely, troubled woman, had passed away when Levi was on the cusp of six.“Sometimes. She died when I was really young, though, so there's not much to remember.”

     “I remember everything about my father,” said Erwin. “Even the stupid stuff. I remember how he would make my mom and I listen to audiobooks for four hours straight on road trips. I remember how he would sing Beatles songs in his boxers on Sunday mornings and he would make us pancakes with too many chocolate chips and-” 

     “Erwin, you're babbling.” 

     “I'm so tired, Levi.” 

     “Then go to sleep.” 

     Erwin poked a finger at Levi's chest.

     “My stepfather hates you.” 

     “My uncle hates _ you _ .” 

     Erwin scoffed and slumped back down on to the carpet.

     “Kenny hates me?”

     “He thinks you're corrupting me, because you're so bourgeois-” Levi pointed an accusatory finger in Erwin's general direction. “-With your Calvin Klein boxers and all.” 

     Levi tossed Erwin an extra blanket. “We shop at Walmart in this household, Mr. Romanov.” 

     Erwin curled up on the floor and brought the blanket up to his chin.

     “I guess you're almost, like, genetically a cossack…” 

     “Shut up.” 

     “You know. Because you're half Asian half… I dunno. European. Wherever Ackerman comes from.” 

     “We get it. You watch documentaries.”

     “Only the best ones, comrade.” 

     Levi groaned. “You're insufferable.”

     “I know.” 

     A few beats of silence passed and Levi allowed his eyes to close momentarily. 

     “I'll have to charm my way into Kenny’s good graces, I guess,” said Erwin from the darkness, mournfully. 

     Levi groaned. “Is this really bothering you?” 

     “I don't like it when adults hate me!”

     “Kenny doesn't hate you. He’s just worried that you're gonna grow up to be some Washington fat cat.” 

     “That'll never happen. Besides, you'll be there to make sure, right?”

     Levi's heart fluttered, embarrassingly so, at the idea that Erwin had set a place for him in the near and distant future. 

     “Right.” Levi stepped down from his bed and sat on his knees, searching blindly for Erwin's form in the moonlit dark. His fingers brushed across Erwin's broad shoulders and muscled chest, and Levi's body was filled with the all too familiar sensation of longing. 

     “And if it makes you feel any better, my mom would have loved you. Having you in her home would have made her so happy.”

     In the back of Levi's mind, he did believe his mother was somewhere, watching over him. Maybe she lived amongst the flowers and thorny brambles in the garden, her rosy countenance reflected in the kitchen window. Maybe she was nestled in the grooves of maple wood in the hallway to the door. And he knew that wherever she was, she was proud.

     Erwin groped in the darkness and covered Levi's entire face with one hand, giggling. 

    “You mean that?”

     Levi pulled aside the offending appendage. “I was  _ trying  _ to be nice.”

     “I know. Thank you.”

     Erwin sat up and and placed a hand on Levi's knee. Even in the darkness, Erwin could make out the glint of Levi's eyes and the faint outline of his lips. 

     “Promise me you'll be there? The whole way?”

     “I promise.”

     Erwin leaned in and kissed him, and so began the tumultuous series of events that would leave them hurtling through the desert at 80 miles an hour, in a rented genesis, towards the city of lights. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three things:  
> -I have had a hc that Levi was mixed since day 1. And I know that canonically he's probably just white or whatever, but my usually keen hapa radar still goes off whenever I see him both in the manga and anime, even though in the anime he's pale as fuck. I can't tell you why.   
> -there was a thing during the Russian revolution where the cossacks were like the only people to stay loyal to the Romanovs bc they were like the royal bodyguards. Very knight/liege, very eruri. Sounds like a hella AU. Also side note about the Cossacks, they were known for being capable warriors, had some gender equality, and were democratic. What's up.   
> -I think I'll have to start making the chapters longer. I'm sorry about the lame 1k a chapter thing I have going on.


End file.
